Poetry

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In song, we often call His Grace 'amazing!'
We even sing how 'love has lifted me.'
Then say 'He is the fairest of ten thousand'
And voice the words 'His blessed face I'll see.'

We recognize His cross as 'old and rugged'
We sing 'He paid it all at Calvary.'
We speak of 'His great faithfulness and how He suffered loss'
Can the beauty of His life be seen in me?

We march to strains of 'onward Christian soldiers'
And sing 'just as I am without one plea'
'Almost persuaded' of that 'blest assurance'
We prize 'the tie that binds' His love to me.

'Oh, what a Friend, the Rock of all the ages'
'We'll understand it better' 'cross that sea,
Are we the 'soldiers of the cross' we often claim to be;
Does the beauty of His life exist in me?

We promise that the 'sheaves will all be gathered'
And we 'will meet Him by the riverside.'
'Stand up for Jesus' is a treasured anthem,
Extend to him a welcome 'to abide.'

When we 'cross chilly Jordan' to the Kingdom
And in His Presence, hope to ever be;
But when the Book is opened, where ALL names are written down....
Will the beauty of His life be found in me?

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